


The Last Man Standing

by strawberrypop11



Series: Ficlets & Short Stories [6]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23813113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrypop11/pseuds/strawberrypop11
Summary: Sitting around the campfire; the men want a story, they get a story.
Series: Ficlets & Short Stories [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550254





	The Last Man Standing

There were five men around a campfire. They were out in the middle of the dark, wet, forest. The only light source was the orange flames casting their reflection on the trees that surrounded them. It was cold, the wind blew so strongly that the branches danced against their will. 

The first man blew in his hands, rubbing them together, as the other four did the same .

“Can we go to bed, Ernie?”, the man on the left asked the other.

“Not yet Buddy, the night’s too young to go and sleep it away” Ernie told his brother. Staring into the heart of the fire, Ernie’s eyes showed a slight hint of dismay, he frowned and avoided the flames. 

“Hey Papa, why don’t ya tell story. If we’re just waitin’ here, freezing our assess off- at least we could be entertained some.” The third man told the oldest of the five. Who stood across from Ernie. His back was turned, he looked away, staring at the pathway they came on last Tuesday. 

“Pops?” the third tried again. The man turned to look at his son, the left side of his face was covered in the shadows. 

“Yes Darren?” the oldest said. “Tell us a story Dad.” Darren spoke again slowly. 

The oldest looked away for a moment; sighing, he turned to face the fire. The left side of his face was red with horrific cuts and scars. The once smooth skin, bumpy and b as charcoal. The oldest flinched, and looked at his only young. 

“You want a story eh? Well, here’s one.” Ernie glanced up, from where he tried to to warm his hands, and looked at the oldest with interest, the other two doing the same. 

The Oldest cleared his throat; and his gaze coming towards Ernie's. And then leaving. 

“This story is true.” he began. “It started a long while ago, we were just young lads back then- It was 1910, I was running around playing in the forest with my friend.” The man swallowed a nd continued. 

“ I saw a man running away from something, I turned towards his direction of where he came from.

"I-I, didn’t see it coming,” The oldest looked onward, eyes wide. “Pops!?” Darren shook his father. Not responding, Ernie got up, and pour a bucket of water that lays on the side of the fire. A hiss erupting from it as it cooled, turning black, visible smoke arose.

“Enough stories.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Readers, this is an incredibly old story. It's simple and sweet and was one of my first pieces I have ever written. It's weird, but I hoped you found something within it. ♥


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